


Controlled Avalanche

by AdamantSteve



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Avalanche, Clint can cook, Domestic, Fluff, M/M, Oral Sex, Phil is oblivious, Tony is a troll but in the best way, proposal, showgirls, trapped in a cabin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 15:17:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/pseuds/AdamantSteve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every time Clint is about to get down on one knee, something ruins the moment and he just can't ask Phil to marry him. With the help of his Avenger friends he finally gets Phil alone. Can he propose? Will Phil say yes? Will he like the ring?!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Controlled Avalanche

**Author's Note:**

> I've been avoiding finishing my other WIPs so I wrote this instead. Fluffy proposal fic :D  
> This was kind of inspired by [this gif](http://ljinnq.tumblr.com/post/31032759826/stop-checking-out-my-ass-barton-its-a-very).
> 
> Betaed by [Dunicha](http://dunicha.tumblr.com/).
> 
> Also this is probably the least porny thing I've written to date which is kinda weird. There's a tiny bit in it though. A smidgen.

"Listen Phil, I-"

An alarm started beeping and Phil held up one finger across the table as he pulled out his phone.

"I'm sorry, we have to go." He said with a grimace as he signaled their waiter to bring the bill. 

 

Clint tried not to look too disappointed as he hailed a cab to HQ. It didn't seem to matter where they went or what they were doing, he was just never going to get the opportunity to... pop the question. 

He'd been trying for weeks now and thinking about it for months before then. Every time he'd managed to psych himself up enough to get the words out, fate stepped in to ruin everything. If it wasn't mutated sewer rats or an irate mountain giant from Asgard, it was Phil's cat puking on the carpet or Tony blowing himself up in his lab again. 

"We never get a moment alone!" Phil griped jokingly as he slid into the cab beside Clint, and Clint laughed. Maybe he shot a few more exploding arrows than strictly necessary later that evening but no one said anything about it.

 

It wasn't til a gig in British Colombia that Clint came up with a plan. Phil and Clint were scheduled to visit the SHIELD plant there so that Phil could overlook the training programs for the search and rescue specialists and Clint could check in with the manufacturing division. Even though most of his arrows and equipment were designed in New York, they were made out there along with the other weapons SHIELD used and since he was an infallible target-hitter, who better to test them out? 

 

"Hey, Phil. I was thinking... since we're up there anyway and we'll be done by Friday, we could go to that cabin up the mountain for the weekend? I already checked with Resources and they said it's free." Clint said, probably a little too fast to sound as nonchalant as he'd like it to. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked hopefully at Phil. He was terrible at giving away surprises simply because he'd get way too excited about them. But Phil barely looked up from his stack of forms. 

"Sure, that'd be nice. I'll have to finish these up first though." He indicated with his pen the heap of papers to one side of his desk. Clint almost offered to help him get it done but stopped himself. That really would have given it away. 

 

Clint worked hard to make sure all of his own paperwork was out of the way, and cleared his schedule as much as he could without raising too much suspicion. He sweet-talked a few of the key office players into making sure Phil's workload would be taken care of if he were delayed by any... unforeseen circumstances.

 

He waited til Phil had to work late to talk to the other Avengers. 

"Thor?" Clint said, unsure of how to approach the favour he wanted to ask. "Hawkeye!" Thor boomed, clapping Clint on the shoulders before hauling him into a bear-hug. "I believe congratulations are in order!" 

"Wait, what? Why?!" Clint hadn't told anyone about his grand plan yet. But even as Thor was forming the words he realised who would have told him.

"Natasha." 

"Natasha told me! You plan to propose to the Son of Coul. A better match I cannot imagine."

"Oh, well... thanks. But I haven't done it yet, and you gotta keep it a secret!" Thor nodded sagely and Clint continued. 

"Alright well, there's this cabin? And we're gonna go there but I just know that as soon as he takes off his shoes his phone's gonna ring or an alarm'll go off or the freaking Rockettes are gonna waltz in, so I was thinking..." And Clint laid out his whole plan to Thor's grave nods and helpful suggestions. He readily agreed to help and Clint's plan started to fall into place. 

 

He bypassed talking to Natasha since she clearly knew all about it and went straight to Stark. He was in his workshop as always. Clint almost faltered when he realised Steve was there too, but his worries were short-lived. Steve seemed to think his whole plan was adorably romantic and wasn't at all put off by Clint's quasi-legal plan to have Tony intercept all the lines of communication in and out of the cabin. They set up between the three of them a special super-high-alert system that would only be used in the event that an actual world-ending event were to occur, and the plan was laid.

 

-

 

Clint was humming with excitement when he and Phil had packed up the car and set off. He'd made sure to shoo everyone away so they didn't tearfully (in Steve's case) wave them off. Phil had already questioned Clint's need to bring so many bags and he was scared he was going to figure it out and put a stop to the whole thing. 

 

Phil shot him a bemused look as Clint fidgeted in his seat. "I know it was an early start but how much coffee did you drink?" 

"I'm just excited to go see my new arrows in production is all!" Clint replied, drumming on his knees and tapping his feet. Phil smiled at him fondly and turned the radio on.

 

Having managed to not spill the beans on the way, and keep it under wraps for the entire two days at the base (trainees doing well, arrow heads excellent), Clint could see the home straight. He just had to get Phil into the cabin and get out his signal and he'd finally have him all to himself.

 

"Did you pack your snuggly pajamas?" Phil asked as they packed up for the drive to the cabin. The guise of Agent Coulson was still there but Phil was starting to peek out through the smile lines around his eyes and the way his back was a little more relaxed. Once they were on the road again he rolled his neck and took a deep breath and there was Phil: Clint's boyfriend. 

"Hi." Clint said. Phil smiled easily and said hi back. 

 

Clint got a flash of how stressed out Phil would be once he couldn't use his phone and almost called the whole thing off but steeled his resolve. It would be worth it in the end. Would it? No. Yes. It would be worth it all. And Phil would totally forgive him eventually. Hopefully.

 

It started lightly snowing by the time they pulled up to the solid wooden cabin, and it was beginning to get dark. Clint hauled the last of the suspicious amount of bags in and set a kettle on the stove to make tea, Phil had gone around the whole place to make sure there were no bugs of either kind and toed off his shoes. That was the moment Clint had been waiting for and he slipped back outside to send a message that the plan was a go. 

 

He was barely back inside when he heard a rumble in the distance. 

"Did you hear that?" Phil asked, and Clint stuck his entire head into a cupboard to reply so his face wouldn't give him away. 

"Huh?" 

"Was that thunder?" 

"I don't know." 

Clint breathed a silent sigh of relief when Phil let it go. "Come on, come on!" Clint thought to himself. He'd had finished making them tea by the time the rumbling started again, and this time he couldn't pretend not to hear it. 

"Thunderstorm? Kinda romantic." Clint said as he slipped an arm around Phil, looking out the window down the mountain. It was snowing pretty thickly now so visibility was poor. Phil turned into Clint's arms and kissed him. 

"This _is_ pretty romantic. It was a good idea coming here." And Clint beamed like he always did when Phil praised him.

 

He couldn't help but be nervous about how that thunder hadn't stopped and seemed to be getting louder, even if that just meant the plan was in action. Phil tensed and walked into the bedroom to look out of the window there, up and across the mountain. Clint followed him. Even through the hazy snow and the dimming light, he could see a great wave of snow rolling down the mountain towards them and he pushed Phil away from the window before it hit with a solid thud. The room went dark as the snow covered the window and blocked out the dim twilight. They ran back into the living room and watched as the snow covered that too, rolling away from them down the mountain but only taking a few seconds to block that window into blackness. 

 

The rumbling continued once the windows were covered, and Phil frantically dialed Fury, which was his equivalent of calling 911, but - thank you Tony Stark - it didn't work. 

"There's no phone signal." Phil said, somewhat redundantly. Clint pretended to try his own phone but knew that it wouldn't work either. He found a light-switch and tried it, and it 'miraculously' still worked. 

 

Phil paced up and down like a trapped animal, trying his phone over and over again to no avail. Clint eventually stepped in to gently hold him by the shoulders. Phil looked at him with a gritted jaw and his Agent Coulson face on. "I've tried everyone, I've texted and emailed too, in case the signal can get through somehow. Mountain rescue will be on the way once the snow stops and SHIELD are aware that we're here so we'll be alright, Clint. Don't worry." Clint had to repress a smile at how Phil was trying to calm him down when Phil was the one on the edge of a panic attack.

"It's alright, Phil. Don't worry about it. We have food and clothes and the electricity still works." He stepped closer to wrap his arms around him. "And we have a bed." 

 

Phil took a deep breath and seemed to relax a little bit, though Clint could still feel the nervous energy thrumming under his skin. They stayed standing in the middle of the room for a few moments, Clint waiting patiently while Phil mentally powered down and rebooted himself in siege mode. He blinked and looked at Clint. "Are you hungry?" 

Clint laughed. "Yeah. What do you want?" 

Phil shrugged, it was usually Clint who cooked, and he was the one who'd packed everything anyway. "Hot dogs?" Phil asked. Clint leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. 

"Go read your book." He said as he started rooting through the bags.

 

They ate hot dogs, because of course Clint had brought Phil's favourite comfort food alongside all the fancy Whole Foods stuff he usually ate. There was an old TV and a bunch of VHS tapes so they watched Die Hard and drank a bottle of wine while they laughed at Bruce Willis's grimy tank top. "You ever get that filthy on a mission?" Clint asked, head in Phil's lap. Phil snorted. "No. Everyone knows blood doesn't go that colour when it dries." And kept brushing his fingers through Clint's hair like that was a thing that everyone knows. Clint felt warm and safe and a little hazy from the wine and it was exactly how he'd wanted it to be. 

 

He realised Phil was checking his phone again and tried not to sigh. It was reasonable for Phil, unaware that the snow they were under had been a _controlled_ avalanche and there were at the very least five other people who knew where they were, to check to see if his phone could work but it still felt like some form of rejection. Clint sat up and pulled the phone from his fingers. Phil grabbed at it but Clint suddenly leapt off the couch and held it out of reach. Roughhousing was an entirely different beast when it was two highly trained SHIELD agents so Clint hopped into the kitchen area and held the phone over the waste disposal unit. Phil stilled, gaping. "You wouldn't dare." Clint quirked an eyebrow. "SHIELD doesn't negotiate with hostage takers, Clint Barton!" 

 

Clint backed further away, dangling the phone between thumb and forefinger as Phil rounded on him. "That's one of Tony's prototypes you know. You really want to have to explain why it's in pieces?" 

Clint shrugged. "Honestly, it'd probably just break the disposal unit. These things are practically indestructible." 

"Is that so?" Phil said, stepping into his space. Clint nodded, face inches from Phil's and really, he should have seen it coming but was totally shocked when Phil suddenly grabbed his balls and he dropped the phone. Phil caught it (of course) and let go of Clint, leaning forward to peck him on the cheek and finish sending whatever text he'd been trying to send. 

 

"That was unfair!" Clint protested, poking Phil in the shoulder. 

"Hmm? Was it? Was it below the belt?" Phil said as he pressed send and placed the phone on the kitchen counter where it flashed up an error message because, hello, no signal.

"Yes, actually. You're a dirty fighter, Phil. Is that what they taught you in the _Marines_?" It was Clint's turn to crowd Phil into the kitchen counter and he placed his hands either side of him to press in for a proper kiss. 

"I was a Ranger, you jackass," Phil murmured before kissing Clint again and resting his hand more gently where it had been before, palming over Clint's dick. Clint felt him smile into their kiss when his cock jerked under Phil's hand and ground forward before suddenly pulling back to grab Phil's thighs and heave him onto the counter. Phil _giggled_ and Clint surged up to kiss him again. He pulled him forward to undo his pants to get at the cock he'd been thinking about since Phil had yelled at a group of junior agents on the range earlier that day. 

 

" _Clint_!" Phil said, scandalised, squirming until Clint knelt on the kitchen floor and sucked Phil's half hard cock into his mouth. Phil’s protests gave way to the little sighs and _'oh!'s_ that were Clint's favourite sounds as he licked and sucked and hummed til Phil came with his hands fisted in Clint's hair. 

 

Clint pulled Phil's phone off the counter and slipped it into his back pocket as he stood up.

" _You_. You're the dirty fighter!" Phil said, a mixture of fondness and exasperation, which is the tone he so often used when he was talking to Clint. He made no move from his rather undignified arrangement on the counter and Clint was glad. It usually took a lot more to get Phil this relaxed. He briefly considered asking him right then and there but imagined telling the story to everyone afterwards and almost blushed.

"What?" Phil asked, sliding off of the counter onto slightly unsteady feet and pulling up his trousers. He reached around to pull his phone out of Clint's pocket but he'd already hidden it in his shoe. 

Clint shook his head, like he'd been lost in unimportant thoughts. 

"C'mon, I need to interrogate you." Phil said, pulling Clint by his hand to the bedroom.

 

\--

 

The house was still dark when they woke up, it took Clint fumbling in his jeans for Phil's phone to see that it was almost 10am. Phil was already up and the smell of coffee drifted through the cabin. Clint got up and stretched, popping his neck as he shuffled into the kitchen. 

"Good morning, sunshine." Phil said brightly, crouched over the bags that were still in the middle of the room. Clint froze. He'd gotten distracted what with the avalanche and hot dogs and Phil and never gotten around to unpacking everything last night. 

"You trying to fatten me up? There's enough food for a week here!" Phil said. 

"What are you making?!" Clint said, eager to get Phil away from the bag with the ring buried at the bottom of it and hopefully stop him from noticing that there was indeed enough food for a week there. 

"Pancakes?" Phil said, hopefully. Clint grinned and nudged him aside. 

"Go." He said. He didn't like Phil getting under his feet when he was cooking. 

 

They ate the pancakes and Clint unpacked the rest of the bags.

 

"Lovely view isn't it?" Clint said later, joining Phil as he stood looking at the snow-covered window. Phil rolled his eyes at him. 

"You thinking about tunneling us out?" Clint joked, but Phil was still looking quizzically at the window. " _Phil_ , they'll be here soon. SHIELD know we're here. It's fine. Can't you just enjoy being with me for a couple of days?" Clint heard the whine in his voice. Phil turned and looked at him. "I am! I love being alone with you. But I can't just do nothing." Clint supposed that was true. He was Phil Coulson, MacGuyver made real. He probably could get them out of there in thirty minutes or less if he really wanted to. 

 

Clint pouted. "You could play Monopoly with me. Or Scrabble. Or we could watch..." Clint scanned the neat stacks of videos. "... _Showgirls_?!" Phil laughed and looked at Clint. "Don't make me watch that movie again." Clint grinned wide eyed at him. "You got something wrong with your nipples?" Phil groaned and swatted at him. "I'm a dancer, Phil." Clint said, spinning away before bending over and then slowly straightening back up looking at Phil. Phil rolled his eyes but didn't look away. Clint pretended to shake imagined hair over his shoulder before catwalking back to him.

" _What_ are you doing, Clint?" Phil said, arms crossed but a lopsided grin betraying his fondness for his big dork of a boyfriend. Clint shimmied around Phil. "I'm seducing you, Phil. Are you feeling seduced?" Phil was laughing now and he turned his head to watch as Clint bent over again and butted his ass against Phil's hip. 

 

"Yes. I'm... overcome." Phil said, shaking his head and laughing. "Overcome with just- _animal lust_. I mean, it's a good job we're snowed in because this much sexual energy is a force of nature. Who knows what would happen if the general public was exposed to this." 

Clint turned so he was facing Phil again, still shimmying. "I know, but it's all for you, baby." He winked and then bit his lips, which was somehow the thing that made Phil place his hands on Clint's chest and lean in to kiss him. His kiss was deep and sweet and tasted like bacon and maple syrup and coffee and somehow it took the breath out of Clint so that when Phil broke away, Clint was dazed. He licked the sweet taste from his lips and Phil said "I love you." Clint grinned and said it back and then they were both grinning and kissing and pushing each other into the bedroom with Clint still quoting Showgirls.

 

-

 

Clint realised he should have asked just after breakfast,when Phil was all post-sleep and pre-coffee and not checking all the exits for potential escape routes. He tried to think about how it'd be if the situation were reversed, how he'd definitely be going crazy by now. He felt a little claustrophobic as it was, but still. He would ask him that night at dinner. He'd brought everything to make Phil's favourite meal, an elaborate ratatouille he'd perfected over the years. And because Natasha wasn't there and they were both philistines, he'd cook it with bacon. 

 

After a viewing of Showgirls and a game of Risk (a trade-off), Clint set to making dinner and had Phil go take a bath to give him time to get everything set up. He set the table with the linen tablecloth that Natasha had for some reason insisted he bring, opened some of Tony's graciously bestowed wine, lit candles and made a flower out of toilet paper and a zip-tie to place in a single-rose glass in the middle. It looked kind of stupid but when he took it away it looked like something was missing so he put it back. He looked in the mirror over the mantle and shrugged his shoulders, tried to tidy his hair a little before giving up. He'd briefly considered bringing a suit to wear but it felt like overkill and hey, zip-tie flower, pretty fancy already. He reached into his pocket to brush his fingers over the velvet box for the thousandth time. This was it, he was going to ask Phil to... do it. He couldn't say it in his head for some reason, it felt like it would jinx it if he envisioned any of it properly. 

 

"Dinner's almost ready!" Clint called, putting the bacon under the grill. "I'll be right out!" Phil replied, followed by the sounds of splashing and him getting out of the bath. Clint paced nervously and bit the inside of his cheek. He turned the bacon over and checked on the stew and tried not to think about it. 

 

"It smells so good," Phil said from the doorway. He was in his old fashioned pajamas and looked all pink and fresh from his bath. Clint realised he was staring and blinked. He tossed the cloth he was holding over his shoulder and pulled out one of the chairs. "Wine?" He asked, proffering the bottle. Phil grinned at him. "Thank you. This is all rather fancy." He said, sitting down as Clint poured him a huge glass of wine. He feigned indifference. "Eh, French peasant food. You gotta jazz it up somehow." 

 

"Do you need any help?" Phil asked, like he always did, even though Clint had never once taken him up on it. "No, no. Just... drink your wine. And have some bread if you want." Clint placed an entire loaf of bread on Phil's plate and Phil tore into it without comment. Clint put a little bowl and a bottle of olive oil on the table and Phil started dipping bits of the bread into it as he watched Clint move around the kitchen finishing up. When Clint caught sight of Phil he looked happy. _Yes_ , he thought. 

 

The food was good and even better was Phil's reaction to it, savouring each bite, cleaning his plate before readily accepting more, making little sounds of appreciation that made Clint shiver. "So good, Clint." Phil said, eyes half closed, licking his fingers after his third helping. "Marry me." 

 

It was a joke, an of the cuff remark that he didn't really mean and Clint's world suddenly closed in on him and went black and white. He felt hot and trapped and if he wasn't literally stuck in that stupid cabin he'd have run out the front door into the snow and whatever else was out there. He didn't know what his face was doing but clearly it was out of the ordinary because Phil's voice came swimming through the blood pounding in his ears asking what was wrong and was he ok and what? What _was_ wrong? It was just Phil telling him in so many words that he'd _never_ marry _Clint_ , what a ridiculous notion. And then Phil must have realised what he'd said because he was saying how he'd only been joking, they didn't need to get married, it was fine, just a silly thing he didn't mean which only made it _worse_.

 

Clint managed to come back to himself enough to push his chair out and he couldn't look at Phil's face, it was bad enough as it was without seeing whatever further rejection was lingering on Phil's _face_. He went to the bedroom and closed the door before laying on the bed in the dark. He could hear Phil outside the door but being so _Phil_ about it and letting him have a moment to himself, and he hated and loved him in equal measure for it. He was so fucking great. Ugh.

 

After a little while, Phil knocked lightly on the door. "Come in." Clint said, begrudgingly. 

"Are you alright, Clint?" Phil asked. 

"I'm fine. I'm sorry if i freaked you out."

Phil sat on the edge of the bed. the light from the living room framed him in silhouette. "Clint... do you want to get married?" He said, carefully.

" _No_." Clint replied. "I don't know. Do you?" 

"I want to be with you. If you want to, I'd be more than happy. But if you don't, so long as we're together I don't mind." 

Clint huffed. That was what he wanted to hear but still. The moment was long gone. He shrugged in the gloomy light. "S'kinda ruined now." He mumbled, looking away. 

 

Phil stilled suddenly. "Did you. Oh my god. _Clint_! Did you plan _all_ of this?" 

Clint knew he looked guilty. He winced up at Phil. "Don't be mad? I can never get you alone for more than ten minutes unless we're asleep. I'm sorry?" 

"I'm not mad. Ok well, I'm a little mad. But... how did you?" 

"Thor. And Tony a little bit." 

"So... were you going to ask me?" 

Clint shrugged again. "I was _gonna_. And then you went and _ruined_ it." 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Clint. I always thought I'd be the one to propose, and... I never thought you'd say yes!" Clint frowned and Phil rushed to finish his point, "But I was going to do it anyway! And then keep doing it til you eventually said yes." 

Clint rolled a little so his legs gently rested against Phil, who idly started rubbing his calf.

 

"Well... d'you wanna? Get married or whatever?" Clint mumbled, watching his fingers pick at the sheet under his hand before risking a glance at Phil's face. Silhouetted as he was, Clint couldn't properly make out his expression but he was suddenly cupping Clint's cheek in one hand.

"Really?" 

"Yes! Oh my god, Phil. I'm not dicking around ok?"

"Yes! Please. I... _definitely!_ Of course! I love you."

Clint pulled Phil down to wrap himself around him. "I love you too you big _ruiner_." Clint said, hiding his grin in Phil's shoulder and clinging on tight. 

 

They laid like that til Clint realised the thing irritatingly poking him in the thigh was the ring box. 

"Oh! I forgot. I got you a ring. Do you want it?" Clint grimaced. Phil turned to look at him. "Seriously? You got me a ring?" 

"I didn't really know... what else? If you hate it we can take it back and I'll get you something else, or we can both get rings, or, god I don't know." 

"You got me a _ring_?" Phil repeated, looking in the half-light like Clint was just too precious for words. Clint reached over to switch the bedside light on and fumbled in his pocket to pull out the box. He handed it unceremoniously to Phil, who leaned over and kissed him, the smile he gave Clint as he leant away pulling a grin out of him as well. 

 

Then he opened the box. And laughed. Clint sagged and rolled his eyes.

"No! Clint, I'm sorry. Please, I just. No, I love it. But.. where? What?! _Why_? Who told you to get this? Was it Tony? It was Tony, wasn't it?" He pulled the great big, gaudy diamond ring out of the box and put it on, moving it to catch the light. 

"Thor said it was nice." Clint mumbled, and Phil laughed some more, and then couldn't stop, the more hurt and then indignant Clint's face became the more he laughed, til Clint started laughing too. Now that he saw the thing on Phil's hand, it was pretty ridiculous. 

 

"We can take it back, you can pick something for yourself. Or just, I dunno, I'll get you a car or make Steve lend me his uniform or something."

"No! No I want it. Please? I like it. I'll wear it at home. No, hell, I'll wear it at SHIELD, who's going to stop me?"

Clint burst out laughing, the thought of Phil wearing that ring in a top secret meeting pushing him over the edge til they were both in hysterics and then kissing and then, eventually, after lots of "Mr Barton-Coulson" and "Mr Coulton, no, Mr and Mr Bartson", falling asleep. 

 

\--

 

"Are you seriously going to keep wearing that thing?" Clint asked when they were driving back after having been de-avalanched a few days later. Now that he saw it on Phil in the cold light of day he realised just how utterly ludicrous and oversized it was. 

"Yep." Phil replied, shifting his hand so the little shards of reflected rainbow light shone around the inside of the car. "Every day til we get married. Plus it could make a good weapon in a pinch. Probably cut glass with it too. It's practically a Swiss army knife, really." 

"You're practically a Swiss army knife." Clint replied. 

"Damn straight." Phil said, grinning at Clint. Clint rolled his eyes. 

 

-

 

 

 


End file.
